Requiem of Broken Dreams
by tt22123
Summary: There is always something that Sherlock misses or that he gets wrong. He always thought that the one thing he got wrong was that Harry was John's sister, not brother. What if the enigma that is John Watson had another secret, one that Sherlock had always missed, one that John had kept hidden from everyone? Until one day. JohnLock TW: Self Harm
1. CopyRight

Any of the characters portrayed within this story do not belong to me, I am merely borrowing them from their oh-so-amazing original authors. I do not make any money from this story and it is not to be published or to be used for others purposes other than reading on this site where I have posted it. The original author has all right to this story and I do not claim to own anything other than the plot. I wish I owned the world and the characters but alas I am a book binder/restorer, not an author.


	2. Chapter 1

The blade ran slowly across John's wrist, blood welling up to the surface like perfectly round Rubies forming along the sliced skin. He relished in the sight of the beads of blood and the feeling of his sins flowing away as the red liquid flowed down the drain, mixing with the shower water that poured over his skin. He wished that someone would help him yet he dreaded the day that anyone found out his secret. The first day he met Sherlock he thought his secret would be discovered, the man listed off every aspect about him without having ever met him before.

He was relieved and yet dismayed when the man said that he always misses something and had concluded that it was the same with John, that the one thing was that 'Harry' was actually Harriet. He had managed to mask his secret from the world's only Consulting Detective, a genius in deduction that missed John's biggest habit, his worst. He had hid his self harm from the world so well that not even Sherlock had figured it out.

John had figured that once he began to live with the man he wouldn't be able to hide it for long but Sherlock was always more focused on a case than on anyone around him, so much so that he wouldn't even realise when John had left the flat, he would just continue to talk to him as though his presence was still there.

He stood entranced watching as the pink water continued to run away down the drain. He was not expecting the door to the bathroom to suddenly be pushed open but it was and he was so preoccupied with the blood being washed away as it swelled to the surface that he did not recognise the existence of the other person opening the door.

"Oh, apologies John, I thought you were out. I didn't hear the water runnin- Shit, John, your wrist!" As Sherlock said these final words with his panicked tone John finally realised that he was no longer alone as he lifted his glassy eyes to look at the tall man in the doorway before looking back down at his wrist with the same out-of-focus gaze. Seeing the state that the man was in, Sherlock grabbed the towel that John had clearly set out to use and moved forward, pulling the shorter man out of the shower while wrapping the towel around him. He moved the doctor over to the toilet and sat him down so that he could get the First Aid kit and patch him up safely.

"John? John? Answer me god damn it. JOHN!" At his shout John was broken out of his haze and looked up at the face of the detective with a startled expression on his face as he realised what the man must of seen. As he realised that all of his secrets were now laid out in front of the man knelt on the floor in front of him.

"Sherlock, I'm sorry. You weren't meant to see that. You were never meant to know about this part of me. I'll just go if you want, say the word and I'll leave you alone, you never have to see me again. I'll- I'll go stay with Harry for a while, until I can find my own place anyway that is."

"John, you have your own place. Here."

"221B is your flat Sherlock, you should stay here and I'll find somewhere else."

"I wasn't suggesting that I leave Baker Street either John. I'm saying that you are my best friend, my only friend, and I would not see you move away and leave me here. Alone. As for this," Sherlock said as he gestured towards John's wrist, "I am not sorry that I saw this, I am sorry that I did not see this sooner, I failed you John and I apologise profusely. Why?" John wrapped an arm around Sherlock's shoulders, pulling him in to a one armed hug so he didn't get any blood on Sherlock, and held him close in silent acknowledgement of the detective's words.

"You did not fail me 'Lock. I made sure that no one could find out so please don't apologise to me. Why what?"

"Why? Why didn't you tell me? Why did you do this to yourself? Why do you think that I would want you to leave, that I would not care? Why John, just why?" The soldier began to cry in Sherlock's shoulder as he noticed the formation of tears in the detective's eyes, the tears that he put there, causing said man to return the hug. He pulled John down from his position on the toilet and manoeuvred the two of them so that John was sat on Sherlock's lap, both of them keeping their arms tight around the other. "I love you John, I can't lose you, don't make me lose you." The tears began to roll over sharp cheekbones and down pale cheeks as Sherlock whispered his confession to the man in his lap.

John's cries ceased as Sherlock spoke these words and he lifted his eyes slowly to meet those of the man he was sat on, that man he would never leave, the man that he loved. Carefully, as though waiting for a reaction, John leaned up so he could press his lips to those of the Consulting Detective. After a quick kiss the two men pulled back with small grins on their faces and they rested their foreheads against one another.

Finally Sherlock reached for the First Aid kit that had retrieved and took John's hand within his own, pulling it towards him so he could wipe over the cut with antiseptic and then wrap the bandage around it tight enough to stem to flow. As he knotted the bandage Sherlock leant down to place a kiss over the bandage where the cut would be then resumed his hold on John, not allowing the man to escape his grip.

"I didn't want you to hate me."

"What?"

"You asked why I didn't tell you, I couldn't see you hate me, that in itself would kill me, that would hurt more than anything that I could ever do to myself. It's just- it's how I manage to cope when the memories get to be too much, when I fail you in a case, when I thought about how much I loved you and that I didn't think that it would ever be returned. I thought that you would ask me to go because I would be a burden, just a distraction from your cases. You always said that you were married to your work, I figured that if I stayed here you would always be thinking about whether I was about to go crazy so you would want me to be out of the way so you could work."

"Oh John, my John. You have never been more wrong. You are yet to fail me, and I sincerely doubt that you ever could, nor could I ever hate you so put that out of your mind. As for your third reason, I hope that now you realise that it is very much returned. You aren't a burden to me John, you would never be a hindrance to me or even close. Any distraction from you is a welcome one. The reason I keep talking to you even when you aren't around is that in my dreams you are never apart from me."

Once more John closed the gap slightly between the two of them so that their lips were just touching, his lips brushing slightly over Sherlock's as he whispered his reply. "I love you too Sherlock." With that Sherlock pressed their lips together more firmly and claimed John's lips in a possessive kiss.


End file.
